Diagnosis, Dr Chiba?
by Ala Verity
Summary: Trying to balance a job at the hospital with Tsukino Usagi at home requires a head full of patience and...a little distinction. So when an up and coming baby threatens to meld the two worlds together, can Doctor Chiba become Daddy Chiba on demand? Rvsd!


It's here, back and—well, it's back! And never fear, it's revised. If you've read it already: 1) I thank you personally for your time (as personally as an author's note goes, I guess!), the wonderful 13 of you who read (reviewed) it—that doesn't include the 700 other hits it got, and the bundle of favorites! It makes a budding writer proud. On the other hand…it's much easier to be up-close and personal when you hint hint leave a review, a message, anything! (That goes for the 600-odd people who might've read this and fled the scene as fast as their DSL could take them—I do _like_ hearing from you!) Oh, and 2) Feel free to read it again if you'd like, but the edits are pretty minor and don't change the story as a whole.

Anyway, welcome welcome welcome to the Happy New Year's edition, for all of you who are new to this page! Sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the holiday seasons.

::The original author note can be found below!::

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Author's Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! Here's a little bit of holiday joy for everyone, my present to you! It's not FwD, and it's not a Christmas story but…well, cheers for the holiday spirit!

(Edit: There were some formatting and content-related problems the first time around; I've fixed the first set—but I'm still working on touch-ups on the latter. It will be up sometime soon, so try not to groan and moan too hard when you see this story back at the top of the 'new chapters' page in a week or two. I'm not an attention-monger, I swear.)

Happy Holidays, Ala Verity

Disclaimer: You know it, I know it. If I owned it, I'd be off in the sunny Caribbean gloating over my success with a cup of shirley temple in my hand and going on a sue-happy excursion to extort all of your money. But you're safe as long as I'm poor and still writing.

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Diagnosis, Doctor Chiba?

Ala Verity

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"Come on, Ami-chan, move over, I want to see!"

"Mamoru, you'll have a chance once—hey!" she exclaimed as he ducked under her arm to peer curiously at the screen. "Oh for goodness' sake, Mamoru!"

There was a moment of silence as he paused to examine the image. Then…

"Yes! I knew it!" he squealed, banging his fists happily on the monitor.

"Mamo-chan! Stop that!"

Mamoru froze mid-jump and turned guiltily to his wife, who was lying in the hospital bed situated by the doorway. She was also frowning at him. With the look of a child demanding to know what good learning multiplication will do him beyond elementary school, Mamoru asked, "But why?"

"Because I already told you, I don't want to know!"

He waved aside her concerns. "I would never tell you it's a girl—" He paused for dramatic effect as he watched the color rising up in Usagi's face, and then grinned mischievously. "—or a boy." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Mamoru, however, had already turned back to the screen, unable to control the excitement bubbling up inside him. He turned to Ami with an insuppressible smile on his face and whispered, "_I knew it__! I just _knew_ it'd be a boy!_"

Ami pulled her glasses out of her pocket, replying absentmindedly, "Yes, yes, Mamoru, I know it's a—" She stopped and turned her head so suddenly Mamoru swore he heard her neck crack. "What did you say?"

"I said, I _knew_ it'd be—"

"No, I know what you said," she interrupted, waving him aside airily. Mamoru huffed impatiently at the hand fanning sterile hospital stenches into his face. "I just meant, what do you mean it's a…you know," Ami added in an undertone as Usagi shot a glare at the whispering duo.

"Oh. Well, don't you see it?" he said with all the confidence a two-year pension at a large hospital can bestow on a budding doctor. "You see, right there is the dead giveaway. That's what tipped me off." He jabbed expertly at a point in the middle of the screen. "It juts out slightly, and it's got all the characteristics of being his—"

"Mamoru-san, that's its foot."

"Oh." Mamoru gazed blankly at the screen. "Right. Its foot. Not its—right."

Ami gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't worry, I know it's easy to be mistaken, especially under circumstances where so much joy and euphoria is to be expected. After all, you are going to be a father very soon."

"Yeah…" he repeated dreamily, gazing off at his wife. "A father…"

"Although," she added hastily with a pointed stare, as if she just couldn't resist, "You're honestly the very last person I would have expected this from. I mean, really, six years in medical school—_and_ not to mention that you already knew who was coming!"

"Who was coming?"

Ami gaped. He was really out of it! "Chibi-Usa?" she prompted in a whisper.

"Oh…oh! Yeah! That's right!" he said, snapping his fingers in realization as if he had just been reminded why two plus two made four instead of five.

The blue-haired doctor could only shake her head at him—him, her long-time revered idol and the epitome of perfected standards in scholarly attainment! "You know, I thought it might go over Usagi's head, since it's been such a long time since we've seen Chibi-Usa, and in all the excitement…but really, _you_? Oh, the loss of all reason that comes with parenthood!" And throwing her hands up in defeat, she sat down to contemplate the tragedy that would result from living in an irrational world where all people became parents.

"Yeah…parenthood…" he sighed, tossing a glance over at Usagi, who caught his eye and rolled her own at him affectionately. The stupid grin on his face wouldn't go away.

"Mamoru-san," Ami finally interjected, looking between the couple before deciding business had to be done. "Can you step outside into the waiting room for a few minutes? I need to do some examinations."

His eyes never leaving Usagi's, he said, "Yeah, sure, Ami, that'd be fine." He took one last look at the monitor (his heart gave a delighted leap of elation at the sight), and walked to the door, kissing Usagi tenderly on the forehead before proceeding into the hallway.

When the door had been safely shut behind him, he strolled casually down the corridor. He made it all the way to the end before he felt like he was going to burst. Then, as if a switch had been flipped on, he suddenly jumped up with uncontainable excitement and punched his fists into the air, yelling,

"YES! IT'S A GIRL!!!"

And as he continued on his way to the waiting room, he could hear the angry screams echoing all down the hall, "MAMO-CHANNNNN!!!"

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Four months later…

"MAMO-CHANNNNN!!!"

…Nothing had changed.

"What?! What is it, Usako?!" Mamoru came charging out of the kitchen with a bowl of chicken-corn and mushroom soup decked out in parsley and cherries in hand.

Nothing had changed, except that Usagi was now four months more pregnant than before, and forty times as susceptible to weird food cravings at the oddest hours.

"Mamo-chan, how—" She grimaced in pain and gulped hard. "How long has it been since the last one?"

"Uh—uh!" He fumbled with a watch that he kept in his pocket. "10 minutes and 32 seconds, honey!"

"LIAR! It couldn't have been that long! These things are killing me!" she screamed, clutching at the couch where she was lying for support. Then, as if some bipolar fit seized her (and Mamoru was only kept from worrying by the fact that they had done thorough health checks before actually getting married), she said quietly, "Thank you, Mamo-chan, I will bear in mind that it has been 10 minutes and 32 seconds."

In addition to food cravings, she had also recently become an emotional boat stuck in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean during typhoon season.

"Oh, sweetie—" And instead of shying from her like any rational man fearing for his life might, he came up to her and set down the bowl of soup on the table. His hand found its way to hers, and he pulled her in close, comforting her.

"I know it's hard, dear," he said reassuringly, prepared to launch into what would be an inspiring and soul-reverberating speech—he was good at those, it came with the territory of being Tuxedo Kamen. "I've seen my fair share of women who go through this, and every time I tell them that it isn't easy—"

She leapt up and screeched, "YOU DO WHAT?!" And then she instantly dissolved into morbid thoughts about what her Mamo-chan went around doing when he wasn't at home and was reportedly "at work." She should have known that other women were seducing him—after all, he was gorgeous, manly, chivalric, perfect…!

When Usagi got to looking like she was about to grab the spoon in the soup and jab it into something (and indeed, she was thinking of just that), Mamoru caught both her hands tightly and said hastily, "Patients, Usako! My female patients!"

She looked up at him, confused, her hand still midway reaching for the spoon.

"The patients I'm a doctor for, Usako!" he pressed on. "Me, Chiba Mamoru, doctor! Dr. Chiba! At the Azabu hospital!" he insisted as she began lowering her hand in a sort of dawning comprehension. "Yes…doctor…me…" he nodded encouragingly, until her hand finally fell limply into his lap.

"A doctor, right…" she said, gazing once more into his eyes with an almost eerie contentment—or at least it was eerie considering how close to homicide she had been only a moment before. "Do you do house calls?" she asked with a slight return of suspicion.

"Only one," he smiled, and pulled her in smoothly for a kiss.

However, only moments into the blissful, mind-blowing kiss…

"OW!" Usagi shrieked, jerking away. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWW—!"

"What?!" Mamoru cried, likewise pulling away. He wrenched out the timer again and paled considerably. "But it's only been…!"

Five minutes and 42 seconds.

Oh God.

"USAKO!"

She was going into labor!

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_Tick.__Tick.__Tick_. went the clock.

_Thud __thud__thud__thud__thud__ thud—SQUEAK! Thud __thud__thud__thud__ thud…_went Mamoru's mismatched dress shoes as they beat a heavy and erratic rhythm against the waiting room floor.

"Mamoru-kun, we understand that you're nervous, but you really shouldn't take it out on the linoleum," Motoki pointed out hesitantly from his place on the sofa.

"I know, I—No! I _don't_ know!" Mamoru raked his hand so hard through his hair he could feel his scalp strain under the pressure. "I've never done this before, I _can't_ do this—NO! I can't think that way, if only—A father?" he said to himself, nearly in hysterics. "What was I thinking?! Me, a father? I could never—I don't even _know_—dammit, I want to see Usako!" he finished in frustration. As a doctor, he would never make another husband wait outside in the waiting room again. What had he been thinking? Torture was illegal!

"Heck, he's making _me_ nervous," Haruka said irritably, folding her arms across her chest. All she got in reply was a pointed glare before the pacing resumed.

"Look, Mamoru," Rei said soothingly, coming up and placing a placating hand on his shaking arm, "If Usagi really needed you right now, you would hear her. Trust me. That girl might be pregnant, but she's still got a set of lungs to kill."

Mamoru's face broke into a reluctant half-smile. "Yeah, Rei, yeah—I guess she does." He chuckled nervously. "Now I only have to worry if she starts screaming my name really loudly and I can hear her all the way from the other end of the hospital, right?"

"Right," she nodded encouragingly, preferring this Mamoru to the fanatic one who had been carving the Grand Canyon through the hospital floor. "Now just take a seat, and all we have to do is—"

"MAMO-CHAN! GET IN HERE, _NOW!!!_"

Everyone froze, and their heads turned slowly towards Mamoru. He had just enough time to shoot a horrified look at Rei before sprinting off down the hospital hallway at lightning speed, whipping up a whirlwind in his wake.

The entire waiting room fell silent.

"Ahrmm." Setsuna shifted awkwardly in her blue plastic chair. It squeaked loudly.

"On the bright side," Makoto piped, oblivious to the stillness of the room, "I think he just set a new world record for the 200-meter dash." A dreamy look crossed her face as she craned her neck admiringly after him. "I mean, look at those legs! Like. Wow. He reminds me of my old boyfriend…" Michiru offered her a handkerchief to wipe away the spittle forming at the corner of her mouth.

"Makoto-chan, no matter what you say, the man's still married."

"Killjoy," the brunette muttered, dabbing at her lips.

Rei continued to stare vacantly down the hallway. She blinked. The seconds passed.

"Well, _that_ was a good plan," Minako chimed in, not one to endure the quiet for long. "You've made poor Mamoru go from psychopath to paternal worrywart. Good going, Rei-chan."

Her endeavors were in vain. Everybody murmured their agreement and fell silent again, listening once more to the relentless rhythm of the clock in the background going _tick, tick, tick_…

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Meanwhile, in the hospital room down the hallway…

"Omigodomigodomigodomigod…!"

"Mamoru," Ami called sternly from the end of the bed as she helped Usagi get more comfortable. "You need to calm down! You're not doing any good sitting here and panicking."

Mamoru let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself. However, the next moment he had looked around at everything that was happening around him, and the room spun dangerously.

"Mamo-chan, you always listen to Ami-chan." Usagi clenched her teeth. "SO. For God's. Sake, MAMO-CHAN. _Listen to her_!"

"Hey, since when did _you_ ever listen to a word Ami said, Usa—"

"DON'T. TRY ME."

"Yes, dear," Mamoru squeaked meekly. Next moment, however, he felt all the blood drain out from his right hand as Usagi's fingers squeezed his in a death grip.

"Ow…" he winced, watching as his fingertips went ghastly white. Ooh, and now they were turning blue, purple…nasty goo-colored… "Usako—!" he wheezed, feeling lightheaded. But that was evidently nothing compared to what the young woman in bed was going through…

"NRRRRGH!" She screamed bloody murder. Heck, she was doing a pretty good job of it on Mamoru's hand too.

"Usagi-chan!" Ami shouted, straightening up. "The baby's coming!"

"Mamo-chan…" Usagi struggled to stifle a cry of pain, and her grip, if possible, tightened. "Mamo-chan, you're going to be a father soon…!"

Of all the dratted things she could say at a crucial moment like this. The girl knew how to drain confidence out of a man faster than their kitchen garbage disposal.

The floor seemed to fall out from beneath Mamoru. His stomach churned. His head spun. And he caught a final glimpse of his hand, which had turned…

"Polka dots and rainbows…" was the last thing Mamoru could be heard muttering before he hit the floor in a dead faint.

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"Is he awake?"

"Is he _alive_?"

"Well if he's not, he picked the best place to kick the bucket because we're sitting in a damn hospital—"

"Shhhh! He's trying to say something!"

Everyone fell silent, all eyes on the comatose figure lying in front of them. Mamoru's lips parted and the words were just barely distinguishable…

"Justice…is served…would you like some (mumble) meatballs with that…?" His head lolled back to the side.

"No-ope. He's out _cold_." The noisy chatter resumed.

"Do you think we should wake him up?"

"_I_ heard it's rude to wake people up when they're sleeping…"

"Minako-chan, are you stupid or just plain stupid? His wife's giving _birth_, for Pete's sake! To _his_ kid! What sort of dumb—"

"Well, of course it's to _his_ kid, Rei-chan, what do you think, she's giving birth to _not_ his kid?"

"Haha," Motoki laughed somewhat belatedly at Minako's earlier slip. "Rude…That sounds like something Usagi-chan would say!"

Silence.

"Oops?"

"Oops is right."

"MOTOKIIIIIIII—!" Usagi screeched from the bed. The intermittent screams of pain made her sound like a feral tribal member chasing a hapless pilgrim.

"Right, good luck getting hubbie here awake," Motoki said, edging a sideways glance at the blonde beast in bed, "I think I should step outside for a bit, er, leave it to the ladies…"

He sped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving the girls grouped around Mamoru's body to bicker. They were so immersed in their argument, however, that no one noticed the lone figure in bed, her head turned towards her unconscious husband. Her eyes pored over his limp form—they betrayed anxiety and…fear.

"Mamo-chan…" Usagi whispered. "Mamo-chan, please…I can't do this alone…"

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Somewhere in the distance, she was calling him…calling him, just beyond his sight…

"Mamo-chan, please…"

His eyes flew open.

"Usako?!"

He looked around. The room was empty.

"Usako?" He pushed himself into an upright position from where he had been lying on a cleared-out countertop. Jumping down to the floor to better survey his surroundings, his hand hit a tray of instruments—a scalpel sliced across his palm, cutting it. However, Mamoru barely noticed as he scanned the room for some hint of what was happening—it didn't seem to hurt, anyway…he could patch it up later…

He turned around sharply at a _click_ behind him and saw that the doorknob was being turned from the outside. Someone was coming in.

"Ami?" The white-coated doctor walked in, busy making some notes on her clipboard. "Ami!" he said again, this time sounding relieved. "Where's Usako?"

"Hmm?" Ami looked up at the sound of his voice. "Oh, you're awake, Mamoru." Her blue head bent low over her notes again.

"Ami…" Mamoru repeated, giving her an odd look. There was something about the way she said it…He shrugged off the uneasy feeling and said with forced casualness, "I need to see Usagi, and I'm sure she needs me to be there just as much. I don't quite remember, which room is she in again?"

Ami kept her back towards him as she busied herself clearing the mess he had made with the tray. Mamoru, who had forgotten his manners in the midst of everything that was going on, hastened to help her clean up. When he reached for an overturned cup, however, he felt a trickle on his hand and a very soft _plop_. He looked down.

_Plop_. A red drop of liquid on the metal tray. He turned his hand over and saw a steady trickle of blood flowing from the center of his palm. _Plop_…

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Ami, I swear, I'll clean this up as soon as—Ami, _where's __Usagi_?"

_Plop_. This time, the sound did not come from his hand. It came from Ami. When she looked up, he saw that she was crying.

"Mamoru, how could you?!"

"Wh—what?" he stared at her, bewildered. Then, as if someone opened a floodgate, a wave of panic rushed in, fast on his heels. "Ami—_Ami_, what's happened to Usagi? Is she okay? Ami, talk to me!"

"She—" _Plop__. Plop. _Red drop. Clear drop. "She's gone, Mamoru!" Ami gazed up at him imploringly, her eyes pleading with him to deny some harsh truth.

"G-gone?" he whispered. "What do you mean she's gone, Ami? Gone—she's not…she's not d—?"

She shook her head and wiped her eyes on the white sleeve of her coat. "No…Mamoru, what kind of a husband—a father are you…?"

A sudden panic seized him like all the furies in hell. Mamoru grabbed Ami's shoulder with his uninjured hand and yelled, "_What the hell's happened to __Usagi__, Ami?!_ Answer me!"

He could feel her trembling under his grip and immediately regretted his moment of weakness. His hands flew off of her—but he had to know, had to be sure… "Ami," he whispered, looking more scared than ever. "Please tell me, where's Usagi?"

_Plop_. Something in her expression—was it pity? Sorrow? "Mamoru, the girls took her a few minutes ago…because you weren't here to do it…"

It was completely silent except for the steady beating of alternating blood drops and tears hitting the cold surface of the counter. Ami's chin fell to her chest, but Mamoru's couldn't see her anymore. Gone…Usagi was gone…

Suddenly, his legs flew—he whipped around and wrenched open the door, feet pounding down the hallway—the drops from his palm were getting heavier, faster, no longer just drops, but streams, rivers of blood…The blood of the ten cursed days, when all first-borns died…

"NO!" he shouted, ripping the thought from his mind. He skidded into the waiting room with its mockingly clean, polished floor, his black shoes screeching to a halt.

At first glance, he thought the waiting room was empty. The once-bustling spot now seemed deserted. When he stepped completely in, however, he noticed a lone figure in the middle of the room in front of the entrance. She sat in a wheelchair with her back facing him. Mamoru suddenly felt dirty, impure—as if he had defiled some holy ground just by walking in.

"U—Usako?" He took a tentative step forward. No answer. "Usako…" His slow footsteps echoed on the suddenly narrow walls as he walked towards her. Outside, beyond the glass double-doored entrance, he could barely discern the shadowy figures of people preparing a car for its occupants. Mamoru stopped. His feet had taken him within an arm's reach of his wife.

"Usako, I—Ami told…" He swallowed hard. "She's telling the truth, isn't she?" He asked it as if begging her to refute some undeniable reality.

"Mamo-chan," he heard her say, some distant echoing voice that seemed to press in on him from every direction, until the next words registered… "I love you, you know I do."

"Oh, Usako…" He gave a shaky laugh of relief and closed the gap between them in two quick strides. However, his hand hardly came down upon her shoulder before her head whipped around to face him.

"But I can't deal with this!" she screamed. Mamoru's blood froze. He looked down at those large blue eyes—always filled with laughter, or joy, or even anger, but never, never directed at him, not like this…Usagi's voice dropped so soft he had to lean in over her shoulder where his hand was planted to hear her.

"I can't deal with this now, not _now_…"

Mamoru shook his head, his voice imploring. "Usako, believe me, if I could have been there, I would have been—"

"Oh, you were there all right!" she said, her voice straining on the verge of hysteria. "You were in the room the whole time, and longer—"

Mamoru blinked and said slowly, struggling to comprehend, "Wait, I was there the whole time? But—but why didn't anyone wake me…?"

Usagi laughed, a bittersweet shadow of her former voice. "Wake you? Did you think we—that _I_ didn't try? Mamoru, if you had wanted to wake up, you would have! I screamed for you the whole time—the _whole time_…"

But now he was trembling. _Mamoru_, she had said. _Mamoru_…No…she would never—and so suddenly, unless…

"Postpartum depression," Mamoru whispered, looking up at her with horrified eyes as dawning realization set upon him. She had all the symptoms—uncharacteristic irrationality, frustration, refusal to listen to reason—and now Chibi-Usa was nowhere in sight…

She kept talking, as if she could not bring herself to stop despite herself. She looked worse for the wear, exhaustion smeared across her pale face. "I called for you so long and so loud I must have screamed my lungs out…I screamed _your_ name until I held _our_ baby in my arms…" She bit her lip and her head tipped down dangerously, concealing tears, he was sure. It tore his heart to pieces to see her crying. He wanted to pull her in close, just to hold her and comfort her, but she was closing him off, and fast…

"Do you realize…that I had to name our baby? Alone? Do you—" She shook so violently that his hand on her shoulder almost slipped. "Do you know what it feels like to know that _every single one_ of our friends got to see and _hold_ our baby before her father did?" Her head whipped around again, desperately and furiously. "_Motoki_ held your baby before you did. MOTOKI! Your best friend…" Her voice became lost in the pounding filling Mamoru's ears, the incessant beating that his heart all of a sudden seemed to lack…

"Where's Chibi-Usa?" he asked, the sudden urgency in his voice evident. "Usako, where is she?" Ami hadn't made any mention of her back in the hospital room. If she was…if she hadn't…

"Chibi-Usa?" Her baleful look was enough to chill the blood. "Chibi-Usa's outside with the girls, in the van." Mamoru's eyes closed shut tightly in relief, but he knew the battle was far from over. Usagi's own eyes flashed with a frightening fierceness. "And if you knew _anything_ about being a father, or even a husband—" She choked, and Mamoru reached out instinctively, but she pushed him away with unexpected force. "If you knew anything about it, Mamoru," she said quietly, "we wouldn't be in the mess we're in right now. You're a father now. How can anyone expect you to do fulfill your duties if you can't even get this one, small thing right? You promised…in sickness and in health…you _promised_…"

Mamoru stared, unable to speak. She was attacking his every weakness, every fault, and he could feel the walls crumbling all around him. Why had he ever imagined that he could be a good father? He had never thought himself the best husband, or even deserving of his wife's goodness, but this…?

She had never asked of him anything, and now he could not do even that much for her. A fading desperation seized him.

"No, Usako, please…" He had felt empty inside since the beginning until she came into his life…His hand reached out for hers. "I lost everything once, but please…I can try, Usako! I don't know what it takes to be—to be everything I'm supposed to be, but—"

"You don't know," she whispered, pulling her hand out from under his cold one. "Do you think that's good enough? Tell me, what _do_ you know, Mamoru?"

He couldn't speak.

Because he knew. He knew in that moment that he had to be the sickest man alive. He was sick because he left his wife to deal with a birth on her own, sick because he hadn't been the first to see or hold his baby, sick because even now, he didn't know what he could do to help. Sick because he had helped cause her sickness, sick because he didn't know what he could have done differently. He didn't know anything about being a father, or a lover.

"Usako—" His hand on her shoulder shook.

"Chibi-Usa and I are spending the night at the girls'," Usagi said, looking ahead towards the figures approaching the entrance. She began wheeling her chair forwards, and Mamoru's hand dropped, empty once more, to his side. "Oh, and—" She stopped just in front of the doors. "I'd get that hand checked if I were you, Mamoru. I'm sure it's not best to go walking around that way. Spend the night here if you must, doctor. Good night."

Mamoru looked down at his hand as the glass doors slid open to admit her into the warm, breezy evening outside. His hand was stained an unrecognizably fresh and crimson red, tracing rivulets and streams down his wrist and his forearms. He caught one last glimpse of Usagi's retreating form as the girls welcomed her into the starless night; a velvety redness blanketed her shoulder like some badge of honor, festering and growing even as the dark swallowed her form whole. The glass doors slid shut behind her, and Mamoru was alone.

He didn't want to see their outlines as they loaded up the car and drove away, didn't seem to have the energy to move another step. Instead, his eyes traveled downwards once more, skimming over the red of his hand to the blood streaming profusely down his arms, where it soaked his sleeves, the spot where his hand had rested against his pant leg, the clean floor. Funny it didn't hurt more—it seemed to affect him not at all. The gaping wound in his heart, however…it felt…it felt…

'Empty,' was his last thought; and as his vision faded and he slid down to the floor into a pool of his own blood, he could almost hear Usagi, screaming again in the distance…

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"MAMO-CHANNNNNNN!!!"

"What?!" Mamoru's head flew around wildly as he shot up from his lying position. "What what what? What is it?!"

He looked around. Eight pairs of enormous eyes blinked down at him.

"WARRRGHH!" He shot back up against the cabinets like a cornered animal. "What—?"

"'Bout time he woke up, I'd say it's been nearly five minutes already…"

"Shut up, Makoto-chan, you liked having an excuse to get an eyeful of th—ow!"

But Mamoru could barely hear the inarticulate "thows" and "whouches" going on in front of him. Because the moment he sat up, he could see behind them. And lying on the bed behind them was…

Mamoru pushed himself slowly off the counter. His knees buckled under the unfamiliar weight, and he could feel his legs shaking. He took a moment to steady himself, the pounding in his chest rising. His eyes, however, locked on only one person.

"Usako," he whispered.

And suddenly, an overwhelming relief flooded his senses until he wasn't sure where he was or what he was doing any more, only that Usagi was in front of him again. And then he was rushing forward and taking her hands up in his miraculously clean ones and he kissed her hand and her forehead, and gathered her up in his arms. To think of what he could have _lost_…

"Oh, Usako!"

"Wh—what? Mamo-chan…!" She looked completely nonplussed. "Wh—what's going on, Mamo-chan? What are you—?"

Mamoru laughed, which probably scared the bejeezes out of his wife, to whom his behavior went completely unexplained. "Don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, smiling. He brushed a limp hair, damp from labor, away from her face. "I'm right here for you now, Usako. You just let me do the worrying, and you concentrate on what you need to do."

A rain of sighs sounded behind the couple, and Mamoru turned to see the girls gathered around behind him like avid watchers of a television show. Minako had a pack of caramel corn on her lap and her hand in a pack of tissues, which she passed around without her eyes leaving them even once. Heck, she didn't even blink. It was kind of scary, actually.

Setsuna sighed again. "Aren't they just adorable?"

"Isn't _he_ just adorable?"

"Makoto, we _can_ hear you," Mamoru muttered resentfully, tired of being talked of like some prize plushie doll. Suddenly, though, his right hand felt like it was being crushed by a giant boulder. He thought at first it was some demented method of Makoto's of getting revenge on him—until he looked down to see his wife with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, clamped onto his hand as a drowning sailor to a lifeline.

"This is what started it last time—"

"Oh boy, here we go again—"

Mamoru could hear the murmurs in the background, but he blocked them out and focused all of his will into what was happening in front of him. His hand reciprocated the pressure until his fingers felt numb, but still he whispered, almost subconsciously and in a never-ending refrain, "It's okay, Usako, you just squeeze all you need to, we'll get through this, you just—" He would never let her go again, dream or not…

"It's coming, Usagi-chan!" Ami yelled from the end of the bed. "I need you to push now—push!"

"Mamo-chan," Usagi said with an effort, silencing Mamoru's attempts to make her save her energy. "Mamo-chan, I didn't get to…tell you…how glad I am you came…ungh!"

Not the most lovely sound in the world to finish a sentence with—but Mamoru's heart swelled and he whispered quietly as he watched her renew her struggle, "I know, Usako…I am too…" He hardly noticed the absence of silly sighs from behind them—Ami had, unbeknownst to them, shooed out the girls at the climax of the event so they could enjoy a little privacy.

"Push, Usako!" he urged gently, as Usagi looked on the verge of exhaustion. "Just a little bit more—come on, breathe, you've got to breathe, honey—"

"YOU—TRY IT!" she screamed, sounding incensed—but the energy flooded back into her face at once. Mamoru smiled to himself. She just needed a little boost, that was all.

He watched her as she fought to fulfill Ami's orders, amazed at the thought that only minutes earlier, he could have even imagined missing a thrilling, life-changing event like the one playing out before him. His hand hurt beyond all reason, burning as if he had just dipped it in strong acid; but more than simply reveling in being able to transfer her pain to himself, he knew in this very moment that it was a blessing to _know_ what pain was. Yes, this was pain. Pain was what told him he was alive, not a shadow walking through a dream or a nightmare. The pain in his hand let him know that he was here and now—that he was a husband, a doctor, a friend…a father. And he could almost laugh in tears at the last thought, so much so that he squeezed her hand back harder than ever.

"Come on Usagi-chan, just give it a little bit more!" Ami called.

"Usako!" Mamoru gasped, as she squeezed her eyes shut with the pain, made one final effort, and then suddenly fell back into the pillow, weary and worn but glorious in her exhaustion.

"Usako…" Mamoru whispered; then, the elation swelling up in his voice and in his whole body, "_Usako_" He gripped her hand tighter as hers loosened its hold on his, as if he never wanted to let go of it again. It seemed an almost masochistic pleasure, but at the moment he could care less. "We did it, Usako, we did it!" Her eyes fluttered open again at the sound of his voice, and she smiled at him, tiredly and tenderly. The angel in her shone through, unapologetic and clear.

"We did, didn't we?" She looked down at his hand. "Mamo-chan—ahhh! Mamo-chan, I'm so sorry! Look what I did to your hand—!" He looked. It was striped white from where her fingers had dug in, and every other part of it had turned a becoming shade of blue.

"Never looked better, has it?" He grinned, and she laughed. "And neither have you, Usako." She blinked and watched him with demure eyes as he leaned in and kissed her.

"Usagi-chan, Mamoru," Ami said, coming over with a broad smile on her face. The couple broke apart and turned to look at her. She carried over in her arms a bundle wrapped up in soft white blankets. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Chiba—you have a beautiful, healthy baby girl." She handed the bundle to Usagi, looking half ready to cry.

"You're not allowed to cry, Ami," Mamoru ordered, laughing through his own tears. "I might turn into a hemophiliac if she starts crying." He added, "That is, if the blood ever comes back into my hands." Usagi, her eyes completely dry but sparkling, glanced at him questioningly. Mamoru simply smiled, signaling that he would explain things some other time. She just shook her head at him with a giggle, and looked down at the baby with pure affection filling her face. Mamoru leaned over to take a peek.

Snuggled fast in the sheets was a tiny baby, her eyes peering out blearily at them. A few pink hairs sprang out from the top of her head, her tiny hands clutching at the fluffy white blankets. Mamoru offered his index finger to her hand; she stared at it for a second…then her fingers closed on it and curled around it. To think he'd be holding that little hand one day too! They all laughed, watching as she examined the extremity curiously before sticking it in her mouth and gumming it.

"Hey, hey there," he chuckled, gently extracting his saliva-drenched finger. Usagi bent over and kissed her forehead, wearing a look Mamoru had never seen before. She had lost her breath, but still she breathed loving words into the infant's ear—"Chibi-Usa, I love you, I love you," she whispered, over and over again. Her hair clung damp to her face, limp from the exertions of labor; but he had never seen her look so stunningly beautiful.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes bright with joy. "So," she said with a slightly mischievous twinkle in her eye, "What's your diagnosis, Doctor Chiba?"

"I'd say…" He looked up at Ami, who gave him a thumbs-up and walked out the door, leaving the two of them alone. He turned back to gaze at the faces of his wife and newborn daughter. "I'd say," he said with a smile, "that this man here has the absolute worst case of lovesick I've ever seen."

"Really?" said Usagi, with a smile on her face to match his. "And what are the causes, doctor?"

"I'd say it'd have to take two extraordinarily beautiful, wonderful women to create as severe a case as this." His face inched closer to hers.

"Oh?" she breathed, the corners of her lips still upturned slightly. "And…Doctor Chiba, you're never wrong, are you?"

"Not when it matters," he replied with a wink, leaning forward. Usagi closed her eyes expectantly. At the last moment before making contact, though, Mamoru grinned devilishly and twisted away, instead planting a kiss on his newborn baby's forehead.

"Hey!" Usagi protested, laughing and swatting at his hand, which was still a brilliant shade of bright pink.

"Hey," he said, holding both injured and unharmed hands up in a gesture of helplessness. "What did you expect? I've got two women in my life now, Usako. Although," he added happily as Usagi made a face, "I think I can learn to share." He bent forward again and kissed her.

A flood of deep sighs and "Aw"'s saluted their ears, and the pair looked around in surprise. There stood Ami, at the front of the group holding up her hands as if to say, 'Sorry, guys, I couldn't do anything!' And there were Rei and Minako, the latter of which was ardently defending the stork-birth theory.

"Minako-chan, how _could_ you even talk about that nonsense when you've practically _seen_ Usagi give birth just now?"

"Oh posh, Rei-chan—we didn't _actually_ see it! Why else would Ami shoo us out of the room right before it happened? She didn't want us to see where she hid the stork!" Minako eyed the hamper in the corner of the room suspiciously, as if it might be harboring the fugitive bird.

Behind her, Setsuna shook her head with a faint smile tugging at her lips, while Hotaru stood next to her, holding her guardian's hand. Haruka had her arm around Michiru's shoulders, and for once quit the smart-aleck remarks long enough to give Mamoru a thumbs-up. Mamoru smiled gratefully in return. Makoto also finally managed to drag her eyes off of the new father and fasten them on the newborn with a look of genuine joy and curiosity. Motoki, who hovered uncertainly near the entrance as if he was intruding, was dragged to the front by a relentless Minako. She pushed him forward.

"Come on, you're like—godfather or something! Isn't he?" she added quizzically, looking over at Mamoru for support.

Mamoru glanced at Usagi, who nodded. He turned back and shrugged at Motoki. "Yeah, sure buddy, why not?" He laughed. "Can't say it's so simple for the girls, though. That's what Usagi gets for having so many female friends!"

"Oh, we've already got that decided," Usagi said loftily, as she allowed Motoki to approach and take the bundle from her arms.

Mamoru raised an eyebrow. "We have?"

"Oh yeah." She waved a hand airily. "Rei-chan, will you do it?"

"Wh-attt?! Me?" Rei looked at her incredulously, then said to an equally surprised Mamoru, "Just how many bottles of morphine did they let the girl have to keep her from tearing down the hospital wing?"

"About five," Mamoru answered, laughing as Usagi began bickering with the newly-appointed godmother. Soon, everyone was preoccupied with Chibi-Usa, who was passed around and cooed over and tickled and embraced. Mamoru watched the scene enfolding before him, enraptured and finding it difficult to break out of his blissful reverie. Finally, however, Rei left Usagi to join the group, leaving the couple alone together.

Usagi, too, watched all of their friends grouped around their daughter. They sat in silence for a while before she spoke. "You're a daddy now, you know, Mamo-chan," she said, her eyes fixed on the bundle that was Chibi-Usa.

"Yeah…" His eyes got a faraway look. Then, with a grin, "Yeah, I figured that much out from five years of biology courses, although I think the term they used there was something more like "paternal parent" or "father."

Usagi wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Sounds redundant and boring—"

"No, that statement you just made was pretty redundant, though…"

"Whatever! I'm just saying that if you want your daughter calling you 'paternal something or another' instead of 'daddy,' that's just plain weird."

He paused. "You're right, that _is_ weird."

"What, paternal—?"

"No, '_daddy_,'" he said, reveling in the name. "I always thought that—you know, since I never knew my own parents…"

He looked at her thoughtfully, hesitating. Usagi, however, took his red, abused hand gently in her own and smiled encouragingly. Mamoru took a deep breath and continued, "I mean, I'm sure they were great, but I never had an example to follow, so I was just sure that I could never be a good parent, you know?" The burden that had been weighing down on his chest since even before Usagi had become pregnant felt like it was constricting his breathing. And suddenly, it became a matter of necessity that he share these feelings with his wife—he couldn't handle it alone anymore…!

"Sometimes…" he rushed, unable to get the words out fast enough now that the gates had been opened, "sometimes I'm not even sure you _do_ know, and it kills me inside, because it's a part of me you could never understand. And you know I want to share every part of my life with you—but Usako, no matter how scary your dad may be with his man-hunting rifle," Mamoru laughed shakily. "He loves you, and your mother loves you and…" He finished quietly, "…and sometimes I think I just can't compete with that. You know what it's like to love, and that's one thing I sometimes still think I can't do right." He hung his head, feeling suddenly ashamed of these traitorous emotions.

"Oh, Mamo-chan…" There was silence for a second, and then Usagi burst, "Mamo-chan, you silly, wonderful man!" He felt a hand under his chin, lifting his head and, when he caught sight of Usagi's expression, lifted his heart, too. She was smiling, shaking her head at him. "Nobody can _know_ what being a good parent means, whether or not they've had a good mom and dad," she said, looking at him meaningfully. "Mamo-chan, I thought you knew that from the moment all this began that we were in this together!" She took his hand in hers and laughed. "I'm just as clueless as you are—heck, _I'm_ the one who fell asleep during half of our parenting classes while you were busy color-coding your notes and holding me in your arms! And I'm scared too—terrified that soon I'll be responsible for a living being other than myself, when I couldn't even take care of Goldy and Silvery—"

She teared up and Mamoru patted her consolingly on the back. Goldy and Silvery were her goldfish.

Usagi wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "And besides Luna, I've never had to—well, I mean, she was pretty self-sufficient and all, considering how she could talk and make food and beat up youma on her own and everything…And sometimes I think I can't even do any of that half as good as my own pet! But there's no textbooks telling you how to be a good parent—well, I'm sure there are, but reading and I were never quite on the same page—"

Mamoru laughed tremblingly at the joke, which judging by the look on Usagi's face, had been quite unintended. He laughed half out of relief and half out of sheer love for his wife—the woman who was not a dream, or an imaginary vehicle for his unfounded fears, but a real, loving woman who exposed his deepest insecurities only in order to heal them. She smiled too, looking him straight in the eyes.

"No matter what or who you are, Mamo-chan, we'll get through this together. You learned to love me just fine when you thought you couldn't, and look how we turned out!" She winked, and continued in perfect seriousness, "Nobody's perfect, but we can all just try to be the best that we can, for everyone's sake. Can't we, Mamo-chan?"

"You know," Mamoru said, looking at his wife speculatively, "You could make quite the doctor, Usako."

Usagi, for all her compassion and ability to empathize with her husband, only understood part of his meaning and hit him lightly, scolding him for teasing her at a moment like this on her book-smarts. She did not quite see the gleam in his eye that indicated something much deeper, because Chiba-Tsukino Usagi was not one to see the goodness in herself. She was born to see the light in others, and for that she needed Mamoru like fire requires air to exist. She made him realize the qualities about himself that he most needed to become aware of and, in turn, he made sure that a part of her selfless love returned to nourish the heart. And all these thoughts made him smile, because he knew that he was the luckiest man alive for having the rest of his lifetime to accomplish this duty.

"—isn't that right…Mamo-chan?" Usagi was saying to a bemused-looking Mamoru.

He looked up. "Hmm?"

She grinned triumphantly. "Ha! You weren't listening!" She pointed a finger at him accusingly. "I was saying…if you're so smart, Dr. Chiba, then what's the cure for your oh-so-serious illness?"

"Lovesickness?" Mamoru gazed thoughtfully at Chibi-Usa, who had begun to wail with a set of lungs that, if nothing else did, surely proved that she was truly her mother's daughter. "Oh, I don't think lovesickness can be cured, Usako." He turned back to Usagi. "You can help it, sometimes, by being close to the ones you love and spending time with them, and experiencing life with them, maybe. But there's no hope for ending it just yet…" He smiled at her. "And I don't think I'm going to work too hard on trying to find this cure just yet. It kind of suits me, don't you think?"

"Whatever you say, Chiba Mamoru," Usagi said, burrowing her head contentedly into his neck. "After all, you're the doctor."

And as Mamoru held her close, listening to his daughter's wailings and his friends' frantic attempts to calm her in the background, he felt that he had never made a truer diagnosis.

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Four months later (again)…

"Say 'ahhh!'"

Usagi crouched down in front of the baby walker and waved around a spoonful of mushed peas. "Vroom, vroom! Widdle airpwane's comin'! Whooooo—!"

She had never seen a more bored-looking baby. Could babies even _look_ that bored?

"Oh no, airplane's missed the landing pad—ah, no, you can't move the airport, Chibi-Usa—Zoom, look, plane's coming down again, wheee…!"

The strains of her pseudo-airplane noises finally reached Mamoru, who was busy on the other side of the kitchen washing dishes. Turning off the faucet and drying his hands on a dishtowel, he smiled to himself as he turned to watch his wife's futile attempts.

"Vreee—hey, no! You can't grab the plane, Usa-Usa, the (grunt) plane isn't for (oomph!) grabbing! Hey!"

"Oh, but it's for eating?" came an amused voice from behind her. She stopped her struggling with the pink-headed baby to look around, and the infant gleefully grabbed the spoon and tipped it over the blonde's shirt.

"Hey!" Usagi exclaimed, looking from her stained shirt front to the guilty child, who had lost all interest and was looking around the room, bored again.

"You know, I never quite got the point of that," Mamoru commented as he watched his wife daub at her shirt with a washcloth. Usagi, having finished undoing some of the damage done, turned to continue her food fight with the baby. Mamoru said, "I don't see why anybody in their right mind would _want_ to eat an airplane. Although," he added, eyeing the green goop being shoveled onto the spoon, "I don't see why anyone would want to eat _that_, either."

"Oh hush, it's healthy for her, it says so on the label," Usagi said confidently, her tongue poking out between her teeth as she concentrated all her energy into making her daughter take a bite. "Now, Chibi-Usa, watch the plane! Watch the—yeah, there's a good girl, just get it all in there and—YECH! Chibi-Usa!"

The little girl, who had let the "plane" slip past her defenses, deployed her anti-aircraft weaponry…and spit the mouthful right back out.

"Oh, gross, Chibi-Usa!" Usagi exclaimed, Mamoru beside himself with laughter and the infant eyeing her mother warily as the relentless blonde loaded up yet another round of ammunition.

"I'll take that," Mamoru interrupted, keen to avoid yet another repeat of events, no matter how amusing they might be; and before the overexcited mother could protest, he had snatched the weapon from her hand. He tipped about half of the overflowing glob back into the jar and said, "First off, we'll start with the basics: Half steps before whole ones, right?"

Usagi only huffed, muttering, "Well, _I_ still think my way was a good idea."

Mamoru smiled slightly. He whispered to Chibi-Usa, but loud enough for both girls to hear, "I don't blame you for being smart, you get it from your daddy, don't you? You certainly didn't get it from your mommy—" He dodged Usagi's flying hand just in time with a loud laugh, dancing out of range with the spoon still in hand. Chibi-Usa, watching the pair of them duking it out in an odd little dance around the entire kitchen, laughed along delightedly, clapping her little hands in joy.

"Oops—haha, can't catch me!" Mamoru teased as he glanced out of the way of a flying apron, doing a little jig back over to Chibi-Usa. "That's another thing you don't want to inherit from your mother—her speed—ack!" He narrowly avoided a pack of marshmallows. "Don't think so!" he added gleefully, bending down to scoop a spoonful of mush into his daughter's open mouth. The baby, too busy watching their antics, barely noticed and swallowed obligingly, eager for the show to continue.

"And the score is: Mamoru—one, Usagi—zero!"

"Hey, no fair!" Usagi protested, laughing and successfully pegging him in the face with a sponge.

"It's all about the delivery," Mamoru responded, turning back to Chibi-Usa, who was beginning to get restless. Filling the spoon discreetly under the walker tray with one hand, he tousled his hair with the other and crossed his eyes. "Hey, look—my name's Haruka and this is what I look like when I get out of bed in the morning and forget to put my face on! 'Where's my face? Ah, there it is!'" He slapped his palm onto his face and then removed it, revealing a very lopsided expression.

The baby giggled and, unnoticed, Mamoru slipped yet another spoonful into her open mouth. Usagi laughed and came to stand beside her husband, who looked up at her and crossed his eyes instead down at his lips, which he puckered.

"Won't the fair lady give the poor fwoggy a kiss?" He uncrossed his eyes and looked straight up at her, blue eyes sparkling. "You never know, you may get a Prince Charming!"

"Oh, you," she said, rolling her own bright blue eyes and swatting him on the shoulder. When he kept his chin resolutely tilted up at her and showed no signs of moving, she shook her head and leaned in.

Unfortunately, this doting couple had yet to learn that babies hate being ignored. Hence…

"WAHHHHHH!!!"

Mamoru, who had closed his eyes, peeked out from under his eyelids and quipped, "Well, those lungs are one thing I'm _sure_ she didn't get from _me_."

This earned him a smack on the head as Usagi lifted the tired, bawling baby from her walker and carried her all the way back to the bedroom. He heard his wife whispering quietly down the hallway, and the soft strains of a lullaby greeted his ears. Chibi-Usa's cries gradually subsided, until a peaceful silence settled over the comfortable home once more.

"She asleep?" Mamoru asked as his wife walked back into the kitchen.

"Yup," she replied, flopping down tiredly onto his lap where he sat on the floor.

"Really," he said, concealing a mischievous grin behind her. "Well…" All of a sudden, he stood and scooped her up. She screamed in surprise. "So the baby's all tucked in," he said, carrying her without effort to their room, "And we're all alone, which means—"

"Oh, be serious, Mamo-chan!" Usagi laughed as he laid her down carefully on the bed. "She'll be awake in less than half an hour and you know it! Besides, I'm exhausted." And to prove her point, she threw the covers over herself like a protective barrier.

"Oh yeah?" His weight shifted off the bed and the room was quiet.

"Mamo-chan?" Usagi stopped feigning sleep and poked her head out from under the blankets. "Mamo-chan, where are y—WHAGGGH!"

_Whap_! Usagi got a mouthful of feather pillow.

"Why you—!"

"Hahaha—thought you said you wouldn't play, Usako!" he teased, laughing as Usagi picked up her own pillow.

"You thought I'd back down after a cheap shot like that? In your dreams, mister—_in your dreams_!" She waved the pillow over her head like a lasso.

"Opening!" Mamoru shouted gleefully, lunging at her exposed midriff with his pillow. She shrieked as it hit her and brought her own swinging weapon down on Mamoru's back when he went to retrieve it.

"HA! Take—(whap!) that—you!" she yelled triumphantly, whacking at him repeatedly with her until feathers began flying. A whirl of covers, sheets, and limbs tangled into one big mass, until Usagi finally ceased her pounding of the pile-up at her feet.

"Ha—you—think—you're so—strong—don't you…Mamo-chan?" The jumbled mess slid off the bed—her husband was nowhere to be seen. "Mamo-chan? Hey, where'd you—huhh?"

A pair of hands slid over her eyes from behind. "Who were you looking for again, miss?" came a voice next to her ear. She shivered in delight and murmured, "Never mind, I think I found him."

"Have you?" She could hear Mamoru grinning through his words. He whirled her around by the shoulders and leaned in…Usagi closed her eyes expectantly and…

_WHACK!_ A pillow collided with the side of her head.

"HEY!" she squealed, as he danced maniacally out of pillow range. She chased him around the large bed until each of them stood, both pairs of hands planted firmly on the fluffy sheets, facing each other on opposite sides of the bed.

"Can't let your guard down like that, Usako," Mamoru taunted with a grin, his hands clenching the covers.

"Oh yeah?" Usagi countered. "Well, Dr. Chiba, you're just going to have to get your—AGH! BLANKETS!" The rest of her words were drowned out by the avalanche of quilts, covers, and Usagi's stuffed animals as Mamoru flipped the sheets over Usagi's head. "AHHHH! The boogie monster's going to eat me! AHHH!" The spectral-like, sheet-covered figure ran in circles until she hit something solid. "Oomph!" she grunted, falling unceremoniously onto her backside.

"Yeah, better watch out," Mamoru said huskily, his eyes twinkling as he helped extract her from the massive tangle. "I hear that boogie man's a real conniving one."

"A real—con-what?" Usagi replied dazedly, mesmerized by the closeness of his face.

Mamoru only smirked. "Never mind, Usako," he said, lifting the entire mass—Usagi, blankets and all—back onto the bed and leaning in once more.

Just before their lips touched, Usagi drew back and said suspiciously, "No cheap shots?"

"No cheap shots."

"Pi—"

"Pinkie swear, cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye and get devoured by Beryl and all her minions," he recited, proffering his pinkie finger to his wife. They shook pinkies solemnly, and Mamoru leaned in again.

"Now where were we?" he breathed. His eyes closed, their lips barely touched, and then…

"WAHHHHH!!!" Cries echoed all down the hallway, nearly shaking the house from its foundation.

"Can't we…just…ignore it? This was…just getting good…" Mamoru asked, kissing Usagi and pulling her closer into his arms.

"Mmm…Mamo-chan, no, we have to—"

He smiled against her lips and kissed her one more time before breaking away. "I know, I know. My turn. You just wait here, Usako, and when I get back…" He winked meaningfully. "Who knows, we could have two in no time!" He laughed, turned, and walked out the door.

Sighing contentedly, Usagi flopped back down onto the bed and ran her fingers through her long golden hair absentmindedly. She smiled, thinking about how lucky she was to just be with her husband and daughter—just the three of them for once, together in a cozy home. No Senshi duties, no Crystal Tokyo to worry about just yet—not that it wouldn't come; she knew it would sooner or later. But for now, she just wanted to keep this moment in her heart.

The wails from the other end of the house stopped. Usagi got up quietly and slipped down the hall. Pushing open the door to the small, dark bedroom, she peeked inside. Mamoru stood with Chibi-Usa cradled in his arms, and he was humming softly. He stopped and looked up when Usagi entered, and she crept up next to him, peering on tip-toe at the sleeping face of her daughter. Her short pink pigtails were frizzled, and Usagi took them out lovingly before planting a kiss on the baby girl's cheek. She looked down at Chibi-Usa, who, in some faraway dream land, smiled slightly in her sleep. The parents looked at each other happily, then back at their daughter.

"I think," Usagi whispered, "We did a pretty good job, don't you, Mamo-chan?"

"Yeah," Mamoru said quietly, gazing at the little bundle of joy in his arms. "Yeah, I think we did."

And the night continued to slip slowly by in this way, unnoticed by any of them. The only witness to their newfound bliss that night was the moon, who filtered in through the bedroom window, standing guardian over the serenity of the household, and illuminating the three figures of a peaceful, happy family.

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The End.

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E-mail and review in good spirit of the season (which, by the way, should last all year long, in my opinion)! That's my nice, socially-acceptable way of getting down on my knees and begging.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Ala Verity


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